Fire and Ice
by Lurisa
Summary: Summary: NOT HBP COMPATABLE! The following is the diary of sorts of one Hermione Granger, Head Girl. Hopefully you find the story better than the summary...please read and review
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

**Summary:** NOT HBP COMPATABLE! The following is the diary of sorts of one Hermione Granger, Head Girl at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. It chronicles a span of time starting on December 2 and ending…I'm not exactly sure yet actually. Maybe never; it depends on my mood. It might not end until Hermione is old and gray, having lived to the age of one hundred. Or maybe not; that could get quite boring I'm afraid or become the confusing ramblings of a very old woman.

**Author's Note**: Okay, I'll be the first to admit it. It's not at all possible for this story to be taking place after what we all read in the sixth book. But, just for the sake of things, let's pretend that it didn't happen. Dumbledore isn't dead and Draco hasn't run off to join the Death Eaters or whatever JKR has him doing at the moment. Though it seems safe to assume that he's run off to join the Death Eaters, without confirmation we are left to come to our own conclusions. I myself think that he is on the way to my house to sweep me off my feet with his bad boy charm and carry me away into the sunset. I still have hope that the handsome Malfoy heir will come around to the side of good.

On a different note, I'm not so good with summaries so please ignore that random stuff before the _Author's Note_…except the disclaimer; pay attention to the disclaimer. It's mostly just me rambling on about nothing and would actually fit better under the heading _Author's Note_ than _Summary_. But anyway…just read the story. I think that it's rather good. But then that could be a biased opinion. I am, after all, the one who wrote it. I'd love to hear what you have to say about it though. Please read and review. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.

Although I'm not a diehard fan of the Draco/Hermione pairing I do like the couple sometimes. This is my poor attempt at such a story.

**More Story Information (Basically Another Poor Summary): **This is written as though it were Hermione's journal of sorts. Hermione and Draco are, of course, Headgirl and Headboy. Out of character…for everyone I'm afraid.

December 2nd 

Cool gray eyes bore into me, causing shivers to run up and down my spine. I knew that look, I'd felt it countless times this year. I suddenly realized that I could picture his facial features with very little trouble—his gray eyes, his sometimes-cruel smirk, the way certain strands of his pale blond hair fell gracefully into his eyes…

I glanced up from the book I was reading and looked across the library at him (as I had found myself doing much too often of late). This proved to be a fatal error on my part because the instant I looked up my eyes locked with his. There seemed to be an endless moment where the connection took upon a life of its own. The air between us seemed to crackle and—

"Draco."

His eyes were pulled from mine and directed to a pouting Pansy. She scooted closer, almost plopping her recently developed lithe form into his lap, and I quickly returned to my book.

I tried to go back to my reading but, much to my dismay, I couldn't get my mind's focus to return to the fascinating goblin raids of the fifth century. My eyes kept drifting over the top of my book to rest on Malfoy. I must say that the fleeting thought that I was even remotely interested in him was so unnerving that I had to abandon my favorite haunt.

He is the enemy. And, if it hadn't been for yesterday, I would still look at him with a hate that transcended all hate. If he hadn't helped me pick my books up off the floor where they had scattered when he ran into me. If he hadn't had a lapse in his routine pain-in-my-arse manner that I felt much more comfortable with, I wouldn't have seen that, maybe, he wasn't such a pain in my arse. I would've missed that brief moment when his cold icy gaze had shifted and revealed a different side, a side that I had never even thought existed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. 

**Author's Note:** I'm posting this one entry at a time. There'll all be different lengths and sometimes I'll post more than one a day. So, sometimes you'll have the next chapter right when you want it and sometimes you won't. I give you permission to hate me. Just enjoy the story.

December 3rd 

As there were no classes today because of the much welcomed weekend, I spent most so the day in the Head common room. There was a roaring fire blazing away in the hearth and it was so inviting I couldn't resist the urge to curl up before it with my favorite book. I was so absorbed that I failed to notice his entrance through the portrait hole later in the evening until he spoke in a low voice that sent shivers across my skin.

"Good reading, Granger?"

Careful to hide my trembling so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me startled, I looked up at him, not meeting his eyes. I wasn't sure I could pull away if I made that error again. "Can I help you Malfoy?"

I put forth my best effort at a cool and collected tone but I fear I failed miserably. It sounded to me as though my voice shook as though I were trying to talk during an earthquake.

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a suggestive smirk. "As a mater of fact Granger, I think you can."

I went back to my book. "It was a rhetorical question. You weren't supposed to answer," I mumbled. "And besides, I wouldn't help you if the fate of the wizarding world depended upon it."

It was true. Even if he had pulled a complete turn around and became the most charismatic person ever to roam the Earth, I don't know if I could bring myself to cross that line. I don't know if I'm a good enough person to forget all the terrible things that he's said to me, all the things he's done to everyone close to me. I don't know if I could ever forgive him for the way his scathing tongue had hurt me.

"I see," he replied slowly. I glanced at him, careful not to reveal my interest. Was there just a hint of…disappointment in his voice? Did I truly see…surly not. It was a trick of the light that had changed his eyes, nothing more. "Well, I'll leave you to your reading then."

I watched him walk up the stairs to his room in shock. I almost wanted to shout to his retreating back, "What, none of your biting insults, Malfoy? No threats of blackmail? You surprise me." I think that I almost missed the bantering, his rather intelligent (though terribly cutting) remarks.

Deciding that there was no way I was going to be able to continue reading, I went for a walk around the lake. I think that I was almost sorry that I had been so rude toward Malfoy. The idea that he had become capable of human emotion in my mind was a most terrifying thought.

It was nearly dark by the time I returned to the castle. I wasn't feeling particularly hungry so I quickly bypassed the Great Hall and made my way up to the common room.

Saying the password and slipping silently though the portrait hole and down the few steps, I wasn't prepared to see Malfoy putting the finishing touches on an over sized fur tree before the gargantuan window in the common room.

I stopped as though I had just ran into an invisible brick wall. Malfoy had put up a Christmas tree? First being civil now this? Had he gone and lost his bloody mind?

"Good evening, Granger," he said, levitating a large gold star to rest upon the highest bow. Then, with a slick flick of his wrist, countless little orb-like ornaments lit up, twinkling softly in all the colors of the rainbow.

"Have you lost your mind, Malfoy," I exclaimed, not having the sense to keep such a statement to myself.

"Merlin, Granger. Keep your bloody socks on. It's just a tree." Draco added some more tinsel with his wand. "If I'd known you were going to have a conniption, I'd have put it up ages ago."

Satisfied that that remark sounded more Malfoy-like, I stormed by him on my way to my room.

"If my decorating bothers you that much, you can change it. I did almost asked you to help."

That stopped me, my foot resting on the first step. Slowly I turned around. "You were going to ask me to help?" It shocked me. Why would he do something so…nice?

He turned back to the tree. "But, since you pretty much told me that you didn't want anything to do with me, I just…" He gave an aristocratic shrug of his shoulders, letting his sentence go unfinished

That's right, I told myself. I don't want anything to do with him and his stupid sudden change of character. I turned back around and climbed up the stairs to my room. I felt his eyes follow me until I firmly closed the door behind me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. **Author's Note: **You'll notice that I use the same disclaimer—if you haven't read it, you should've—on every new entry. This is simply because I lack the energy to come up with a new one. And it seems to me that this one covers about everything. December 4th 

When I woke up this morning, the last thing I wanted to do was get out of my nice warm bed and face the day. I was feeling particularly unhappy that Malfoy had haunted my dreams. His eyes, his smirk—they were all there, making even my dreams unpleasant.

Yawning widely, I forced myself to get out of bed and tiptoe quickly across the cold stone floor to the bathroom. I changed into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, pulled on my joggers and prepared to go to the Quidditch pitch for a run. I thought that it would help to clear my mind, as it had yet to fail to do so and I had been doing it since I was eleven.

Slipping my wand into a special inside pocket of my sweatshirt, I left my room and descended the stairs.

"Going somewhere, Granger?"

I spun around and saw Malfoy getting up from the couch. "As a matter of fact, I am," I snarled. He was not the person I wanted to see right then. Not with memories of my dreams still fresh in my mind. And what did he care what I did so long as I stayed out of his way. I added saucily, "What are you going to do about it?"

His eyes narrowed as he replied in a low voice. "I don't like your tone Granger."

I know now that that would have been a very good time for me to shut my mouth and exit the common room. Unfortunately, at that time, I was blinded by my annoyance at his apparent need to know everything that I did and didn't see leaving him with the last word as a very appealing option. "Why the sudden interest, Malfoy? Gathering a report for you master, Voldemort?"

I didn't have time to be proud that seven years of practice in saying that vile name had paid off. My voice didn't shake at all. But my basking time was severally shortened because, as soon as the words left my lips, Malfoy had pinned me against the wall, his angry face barely inches from my own. "I'm not a servant of him," he hissed. "I'll advise you not to speak of that which you know nothing about."

I barely registered his words. All I could focus on was his body pressed against mine, his breath washing over me like a warm summer breeze, his pale eyes boring into mine…

"Remember, Granger. You don't know everything." He pushed off the wall and disappeared up the stairs to his room.

I sagged heavily against the wall, attempting to catch my breath. Why didn't I fight him? Why didn't I try to get away from him? Nothing was making any sense.

Deciding I needed a run now more than ever, I made my way down to the pitch.

On my way back to the dorms, I stopped by the Great Hall to chat with Ron and Harry and grab a couple pieces of toast. No matter how I tried to focus on what Ron was saying about the Chudley Cannons winning their last match and how they were the best team in the league, all I could feel were his cold eyes on me, boring into my back

By the time I escaped his cold gaze, I was feeling slightly shaky. I don't understand why Malfoy has taken such an interest in me. I don't know if I'm shaken because it disturbs me or because I'm scared that I might like it. The latter wouldn't make sense. I mean, I've hated Malfoy from the day I met him and that hate has grown until he isn't human to me anymore, until he has become a roiling mass of loathing.

But I can't seem to forget the way I react to him like that in the common room. Comparing his breath to a summer breeze wasn't only unusual for a hateful response, it was completely uncharacteristic of me. What was happening to me? Why was did my mind have to choose then, of all times, to go pathetically girlie on me?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. December 5th 

There is something terribly wrong with Malfoy. Not that I didn't already know that. I thought he was being un-Malfoy-like before but that was nothing compared to what he was doing when I came back from studying in the library after classes.

I walked through the portrait hole and there he was, putting up more Christmas decorations and singing. That's right. I said singing. And not just humming at an average volume either. No, this was a great bellowing of all his apparently favorite carols. I was quite surprised that I hadn't heard it in the corridors.

I almost laughed except I remembered him pinning me to the wall yesterday. I didn't really feel like reliving that experience so I proceeded to successively sneak across the room to the stairs to my dorm. All those years sneaking along with Harry and Ron had finally been able to be put to some use.

When I was safely shut away in my room, I let out all the laughter that had been building up inside of me. I got ready for sleep and then flopped down into the inviting bed, falling asleep humming Christmas carols.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. December 6th 

I'm beginning to worry about the stability of my mind being stuck in the same dorm area with Malfoy. I'm afraid that it's starting to take its toll upon my sanity. Last night I had dreams about him again. They weren't the funny images I had conjured up before I fell asleep. Oh, no. These dreams were, for lack of a better word, heated.

They were not dreams I should be having. Not when I'm with Ron. I am in love with Ron. What I have decided that I feel toward Malfoy is nothing but lust (he is exceedingly beautiful if you think about it with his bad ass good looks), nothing but a schoolgirl crush. A crush that every girl in Hogwarts but me has already experienced. I had begun to think that I was immune. Apparently I was horribly mistaken.

I went for my morning run, thinking that it would clear my mind as it always did. It failed me miserably.

I slipped past the Great Hall, not able to will myself to enter. I couldn't bring myself to face him yet. The visions of my dreams still flitted through my mind. The way he touched me, the way his lips caressed mine…

Blushing slightly, I shook my head, mumbled the password and entered the common room. It seems as though I would've been better off in the Great Hall for sitting on the couch was none other than Malfoy himself.

His back was to me so I thought I'd be able to sneak by him to the stairs that led to my room. My foot was hovering above the bottom step when I heard him say in a soft voice that, in my mind, didn't quite fit, "Do you hate me?"

I turned toward him. What did he think? Seven years of being on the receiving end of the majority of his insults and I was going to like him? He was out of his mind! I was seriously considering committing him to Saint Mungo's.

He continued to stare into the fire. "I don't blame you really. I'd hate me if I were you." If it was possible, I was even more shocked. I think my jaw hit the floor on that one. He looked at me. "I've never realized how much of an arrogant prat I am. I've always told myself that I would never be like my father. And I find that, with each year, I've become more and more like him." He turned back to stare at the fire. "You haven't answered my question, Granger."

Slowly I walked over and sat in an armchair. Did I hate Malfoy?

"I don't think I…hate you…exactly," I said cautiously, still trying to get my thoughts straight in my head. "It's more of a strong… dislike really."

He scoffed. "I'm sure."

"No really," I assured him, becoming confident of what I wanted to say. "I hate certain things about you and certain things you've done but I don't think I hate you."

His forehead furrowed. "I don't think I follow."

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. This was like explaining a difficult Transfiguration theory to Ron. And I had thought him intelligent. "All the things I don't like about you, you can change. But who you are—an intelligent person who knows the difference between right and wrong, even if you sometimes lose your way—isn't that bad of a bloke."

He smiled at me. Not that God-awful smirk, but an honest to Merlin smile, one that I had rarely (if ever) seen before. "You really think I can change?"

I thought about how different he had been this year already. Being civil when he had all the opportunity to come up with a biting insult. Putting up the Christmas tree. Even the…singing. Then I smiled and nodded. "With a little help, you could change the stars."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. 

December 7th

I can't believe I said those things to Malfoy. The really unbelievable part is that it's actually the way I feel. I really do think that somewhere inside, however deep and hidden, he's a descent guy. I think that about just about everyone—Death Eaters and Voldemort being the exception; they are the Devil's minions and the embodiment of everything evil.

Today flew past and, after classes, I relaxed in front of the fire with a good book before starting in on my homework.

Just as I was starting the foot long Charms essay, Malfoy came through the portrait hole and flopped down on the couch beside me. He let out a long sigh and, closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the back of the couch.

"Rough day," I ask. Since yesterday, this miraculous change has come over us. Who would've thought that the day would come when we, the Slytherin Prince and the Gryffindor Princess, would ever have a civil word to say to one another? Maybe the world is ending and we just aren't aware of it yet. We've almost completely stopped throwing insults at each other and have become almost…well I'm not sure _friendly_ is the right word. It's more of an understanding. It was something that I'd thought I'd never see. And something I found us hiding from everyone.

"I had no idea being a nice guy was so hard," he replied to the ceiling, his eyelids still closed over his gray orbs.

I chuckled. "It'll get easier."

He sat up and leaned forward over the coffee table where I was hurriedly writing everything I knew about Advanced Truth Telling Charms, his elbows resting on his knees.

"What've you got there," he asked, picking up the book I'd been reading earlier. "_Fire and Ice_. " He began to read the poem at the beginning.

"Sound's fascinating," he said when he had finished.

Without looking up from my paper, I replied, "It is." I finished my last sentence. "It's about these two people who are total opposites and part of two families that have been feuding for centuries and nobody knows how it originally started. Then they learn to see through their inherent hate and find love against all odds."

"Sounds like you've read this one before," he said, replacing the book.

"I have," I said, proofreading my paper. "It's one of my favorites."

"I can see that," he replied, motioning to the ear-tagged pages.

I looked up from my paper. "Could you proof this for me?" I held out my essay. Malfoy is the only one I feel has enough intellect to understand and properly critique my work. He really is intelligent. If he would actually _try_ in classes, he would blow me out of the water.

He took it from me and I began my Potions assignment. Three feet on the properties of frog teeth. There isn't enough on frog teeth for a _foot_ long essay let alone one with the length of three feet. What was Snape thinking?

"Just write really big," Malfoy said when I mumbled something about Snape being out of his head. "It's what I do." He handed the Charms essay back to me. "There are a few places where you forgot to dot your I's and cross your T's."

"How stupid," I grumbled as I reached out to take back my paper. Then something I'll never completely understand happened. It was a simple thing, something I usually wouldn't even have noticed. But as his fingertips lightly brushed against mine, I felt shivers race up my spine.

It wasn't deliberate. I could see that by his sharp intake of breath and the way his eyes widened. My heart beat wildly against my breastbone like a caged bird longing for escape and freedom.

I pulled the paper to me and, shoving it into my book, I got up from the couch. I felt like a wild animal. Something was threatening me and I had the strange desire to take flight and run from the room, leaving the threat behind me. But, even as I retreated to the comfort of my room, I knew that the threat wasn't sitting down in the common room. The threat was inside me. The threat was the way I had reacted to his touch.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

December 8th

I did my best to avoid Malfoy all day, though it wasn't like he was seeking me out. I had seen last night had shaken him too.

I had tried for hours to convince myself that it hadn't really happened, that I had imagined the whole thing. When that didn't work, I tried in vain to just forget it. But it was burned in my memory, taunting me every time I saw him from across the room, when I sat near him in a class.

I think Ron started to worry, saying that I didn't seem myself. I wanted to tell him that I really _didn't_ feel like myself. But then I'd have to explain to him what happened, how I reacted so to Malfoy and not him, why he couldn't pull the same response from me as his arch-enemy had received with just the lightest touch of his fingers on mine. I don't know if he'd ever forgive me for such a traitorous thought so I just told him I was tired and he let me alone for a few hours before bringing it up again.

I couldn't bring myself to return to the common room after supper in the Great Hall and feeling his eyes on me. I had sat between Ron and Harry, hoping that they could somehow shield me from his gaze. But I had noticed, had felt it burning into my back.

Slowly I walked the halls of Hogwarts, not really caring where my feet carried me. I'd turn down a corridor here, climb a flight of stairs there. Sometimes I'd stop and stare out the windows at nothing, other times I'd just stare unblinkingly ahead.

Soon I found myself pushing aside the door that led out to the Astronomy Tower. The sudden cold woke me from my stupor. I just stood in the doorway watching as the snowflakes floated gently to the ground. They sparkled softly in the pale moonlight and clung to my eyelashes, my hair, and melted against my face.

I stepped out into the snow, watching in awe as it landed and clung to my robes. Snow that had already fallen this year lay in an ankle deep layer. It fell into the tops of my shoes, soaking my socks as it melted, but I didn't care. I was lost in a childlike bliss, a winter wonderland.

I started dancing in circles, scooping up handfuls of snow and throwing it into the air. It was like a drug, the snow. The more time I spent out there, the more I forgot about the problems that awaited me inside the thick stone walls of the castle.

I paused and peered carefully over the baluster. The snow was coming down heavier now, blocking out the moon and my view of the ground below.

"Hermione?"

I spun around, my hand instinctively flying to my wand. Standing in the doorway was Malfoy. His eyes looked troubled as he crossed over to me. I took a step back, not willing to allow another incident like last night.

I felt the cold stone against my back. Suddenly I felt trapped. I was the flighty animal again, wanting to run from this new danger.

He must have sensed my panic because he stopped halfway to me. When he spoke, his voice was soft, as one would attempt to soothe a frightened animal. "I don't want to hurt you, Hermione."

I moved closer to the wall, pressing myself against it. Didn't he know that, by being so kind, by caring the way it seemed he did, he was hurting me? Couldn't he see that I was being pulled in too many directions at once? How could I choose between Ron and Malfoy?

It was a decision that I had always thought was so simple. But now…now I wasn't sure what to do. I knew I loved Ron but was it the love one felt for a close friend or the love one felt for a lover? I couldn't tell. I've no experience in this area and there are no helpful books in the library. I had looked.

"Come, Hermione," Malfoy said softly, holding his hand out to me and taking a cautious step toward me. "You'll catch pneumonia out here."

He was right. I was starting to feel the cold without my cloak. Tentatively I took a step toward him, then another and another until I was standing within a few feet.

I watched as he slid his cloak off and draped it over my shoulders. He was careful not to touch me, as if he knew that it would cause me to run from him.

"There," he said, watching my shaky fingers fumble with the clasp until it was fastened. "Feel better?"

I nodded. His cloak was very warm, the deep green silk lining still clinging to some of his body's heat. "Thank you," I stuttered through my chattering teeth.

He smiled. "Come on. Weasley would have a fit is he knew you were up in the Astronomy Tower with me."

I followed him, holding the cloak to my nose and inhaling. I found that, along with the way he said my name, I loved the way he smelled. So entirely Draco.

**Author's Note:** There you go. Chapter seven is finished. I think I'm in love with Draco. Sad isn't it? That I'm in love with a fictional character? What can I say? I'm hopeless and devoid of any life whatsoever. Please keep reviewing. I really do enjoy reading them…even if I don't get around to replying. I don't always know what to say back other than "thanks" and I'm sure that that could get a bit tiring.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. 

December 9th

Today was a Hogsmeade trip. It was a time of last minute shopping and a chance to spend long hours with your significant other without the watchful eyes of the professors.

Ron, of course, wanted to use this time to get to "know me a little better" in the Gryffindor common room while everyone was away enjoying themselves in the village. It was all I could do to convince him that I needed to go to the small village because I had forgotten to buy a gift for someone.

"Don't you usually have all your Christmas shopping done by the time school starts," he replied as I gave him the best excuse I could think of for getting out of having to tell him again that I didn't want to sleep with him.

"Yes, but even I am human, Ron," I replied, walking outside to climb into one of the carriages. "Are you coming?" I knew that his answer would be no. He hates following me around while I shop.

He shook his head, as I knew he would, and gave me a peck on the cheek. "You enjoy yourself."

He helped me into an empty carriage and, with a wave, ducked back into the castle.

As soon as he was out of sight, I sighed and leaned back against the seat. Ron seems to think that we have been together long enough to take that next step. I keep telling him that I want to wait but whenever we are alone, he starts in again. I've found myself coming up with excuses not to be alone with him just so I can pretend that he's accepted that I don't want to get to third base—or whatever it's called.

But there's more to why I didn't want to spend time with him today. I had to buy a gift for Draco. I didn't think, with the way he's been acting so kind, that it was fair for me to just give him a "Happy Christmas" and be done with it. So, today, my objective was to find something for a guy who could buy anything he wanted.

I don't know how many stores I went into before I finally found it. Though it was lying at the bottom of the discount bin, it was perfect. If I wiped it down a bit, it could look almost new. Besides, it was the only thing I could find that was even close to suitable.

I wrote a quick note and, folding in twice, I stuck it inside. Then I paid for it, having the clerk behind the counter gift-wrap it for me.

Thanking the woman, I tucked Draco's present into the magically expanding pocket on my robes and stepped out into the snow. I scanned the street for the carriages that would take me back to Hogwarts. Ron was probably beside himself. It was almost dark and he hadn't been able to get his hands up my shirt once today.

I spotted a carriage across the street, parked in front of the Three Broomsticks. Quickly I pushed through the crowd and climbed into the coach. As I reclined in the seat, I heard a very familiar voice from the seat across from me. "Not with Weasley today Granger?"

My eyes snapped open to reveal Draco sitting across from me. It was a voice that so long ago I would have bristled at, almost feared. Now I smiled at him. "He's not a fan of following me around while I shop."

He switched sides and sat next to me. "I don't see how he could possibly stay away."

I blushed. Nobody had ever so openly flirted with me and the last time Ron had complimented me was…actually, I can't remember the last time he had complimented me. "Don't tell me you'd follow your girlfriend around while she went from store to store, possibly spending hours in each one," I said as the coach started forward.

"If she were you, I wouldn't let her out of my sight," was his whispered reply.

I felt my face grow hot at his breathy words in my ear. My eyelids fluttered closed, my lashes brushing my cheek, as I gasped softly at the sensation.

"Mr. Malfoy," I said quietly, my voice shaking as I fought to regain control of my senses. "I'm very much flattered but I am not yours to follow from store to store."

He leaned back against the seat. "Ah, but you could be. All you have to do is leave Weasley."

"You know I wouldn't do that."

He leaned close again, his eyes piercing mine. "Then I shall have to steal you away."

The carriage rolled to a stop. He brought my hand to his lips. "Good bye, my lady." With that, he stepped out of the carriage and walked up the steps to the castle.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. 

December 10th

I didn't sleep well last night. Harry said that Ron had already gone to sleep when I stopped by after my trip to Hogsmeade. And I wasn't sorry. There wasn't any way I could concentrate on him with Draco's words ringing in my ears. And his words carried over into my dreams. Which, in turn, left me very drained this morning.

Even though I knew that there were no classes today and I was free to sleep the day away if I so desired, I couldn't force myself to close my eyes and fall back into my dreams. This strange desire to see the real Draco had come over me. It was more than a desire. It was a burning need. I felt as though I couldn't begin my day without seeing his beautiful face.

I pulled my hair back into a quick ponytail and quietly exited my room. The early dawn light was just creeping through the tall window of the common room, casting everything in deep crimson, as my bare feet padded lightly down the stairs to the couch. Tucking my feet under me as I sat, I awaited his arrival.

The fire had burned low during the night, its embers giving off a faint glow. I pulled out my wand and, with a flick of my wrist, I had a blazing fire burning in the hearth. The heat radiated, enveloping me in a cocoon of comfortable warmth.

As I watched the flames lick at the sides of the hearth and sparks fly as a log snapped, I became aware of someone watching me. It was him. I knew. I could feel the intensity smoldering in his pale eyes. I could smell the same scent that had clung to his cloak, a scent that was entirely Draco. I could hear the soft sound of his breathing; something that I had never noticed before but I knew it belonged to him.

I didn't turn around though I longed to see him, to witness what effect the red dawn light had upon his pale skin, his white blonde hair. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the flames, the logs slowly turning to ash, the sparks floating up the chimney. I had a fear that, if I turned around and looked at him, the spell would be broken and he would leave. Then I would be devoid of his intense eyes, his alluring scent, his soft breathing…I didn't want that.

It's odd to think that, at one time, I would've given anything to have him leave the room, that I couldn't stand to be near him. And now, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I watched, out of the corner of my eye, as he sat next to me but still I wouldn't look at him. We just sat in silence, staring into the fire.

Finally, he spoke, his low voice making me jump as it resounded in the silent common room. "Do you like to swim?"

I smiled at this out of the blue question. "Yes."

"Then let's go," he said, jumping to his feet.

I stared up at him. He was so beautiful. It was a shame he was crazy. "Have you lost your mind? It's fifty below out there!"

He smiled. "Not out there, Granger. Come with me." He took my hand, pulled me off the couch and out the portrait hole before I could get over the way his palm felt against mine.

I followed him like a lost puppy. My hand burned from his touch but I didn't want him to let go. I loved how my small hand seemed to be engulfed by his. It seemed as though his hand was made for holding mine.

He stopped in front of a painting of a young witch dancing in and out of the trees. She smiled and waved as Draco whispered the password.

Looking over his shoulder and smiling at me, he pulled me gently through the hole in the wall the portrait had swung away to reveal.

I don't know what made me trust him so completely but I gave no resistance, following him willingly into the steep stairwell. The painting swung shut behind me, plunging the narrow stairwell into complete darkness.

A flicker appeared just above the tip of his wand, casting a dim glow over the walls. "Watch your step," he whispered. "These stairs are a bit shaky."

I followed him down the steep decline for what seemed like an eternity until they opened suddenly into a huge round room. A pale pink light was caused by the dawn shining through a strip of narrow windows running around the far wall near the ceiling. There was a huge circular basin set into the floor that nearly filled the room. It was a lot like the prefect's loos.

Draco went from one faucet to another, turning some knobs and passing others by. Streams of every color quickly filled the basin. There were nearly as many bubbles and there was water. The faint smell of roses mixed with something I didn't know reached my nose. Was it lavender… maybe?

The faucets turned off, leaving the room in silence save for the quiet lapping of the water against the basin walls.

"Ready," he asked, smiling dangerously at me.

"Ready for what?"

"Why, to go swimming, of course." He peeled off his sweater and tossed it aside.

Merlin, he was gorgeous. He was lean, made like an athlete, with every muscle toned to perfection by years of playing Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team. He was the captain this year.

My eyes must have lingered too long because he noticed. "Like what you see?"

I quickly looked away and attempted to pick up the conversation from before he had revealed his perfect upper body. "There's no way—Malfoy!"

Before I knew what hit me, he had picked me up and thrown me into the water, diving in after me. I came up sputtering and looking like a wet rat.

"Now look what you've done," I scolded, trying to pull myself up onto the ledge. "My clothes are soaked and my hair is all knotted..."

He didn't reply.

"Draco?" I didn't think that the fact that the only thing I could hear was my voice echoing off the stone walls was a good thing. "Malfoy, this is not funny."

"Boo," he said softly right into my ear.

I screamed as I felt his arms wrap around me and pull me under. I thrashed to the surface as he released me as quickly as he had grabbed me. I heard him come up behind me laughing and spun around, slapping his cheek with all the force I could muster. "You bastard! Don't you ever do that again! You had me thinking that you had gone and hurt yourself and—"

I had said too much. I watched, eyes wide, as a smirk inched its way onto his lips. "Worried about me, were you?"

"No more than I would've worried about anyone else," I replied in effort to cover for my previous words. But I knew that those words had condemned me. My secret was out. Draco knew of my attraction to him.

Again I turned to the edge and started to pull myself out.

"I've got a question for you."

I stopped and dropped back into the water. Slowly, I turned to face him, unaware at how close he really was. I backed up slightly but it did little to separate us. The wall was right there.

"What do you see in Weasley?"

I've got to hand to Draco. He knows how to get straight to the point. There's no beating around the bush with him.

"That's none—"

"None of my business, I know." He took two strong strokes backward and was at the other side of the pool. "You'd better get going. I suspect that Weasley and Potter are leaving for break am I right?"

I mentally hit myself in the forehead. The Hogwarts Express was taking back those students staying with their parents for Christmas. Ron and Harry were returning to the Burrow, leaving me here to muddle through the holiday by myself. I wasn't thrilled with it but I quickly forgave them. It wasn't their fault that Mother and Father were too busy this holiday to take time to remember their only daughter. There was to be an increase in cavities and toothaches this season due to the rise in candy sales.

But then, I didn't really want to leave Draco. I mean, he had taken the time to bring me there and was so kind… I didn't think that it was the thing to do.

"Ron and Harry won't be up for another couple of hours at least. And they still have to pack I'm sure. They won't miss me." I relaxed back into the water.

"Not even Weasley?"

"He only notices my absence if I'm not there to kiss him or help him with his homework. He won't miss me."

Malfoy smiled. "You know, if you were mine—"

"Don't say it," I warned and dove under the water to cover my blush. He seemed to know just how to make me feel as though I were one of a kind, something more than something one could own. With him, I was…myself, not like with Ron where I was sure that I was only there because he enjoyed a challenge and getting me to take that one step with him is definitely that. I'm beginning to wish that Ron wasn't here to complicate things. I know, I'm a terrible girlfriend.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. 

**Author's Note: **I'm afraid that this has gotten away from the idea of a diary and has become more of a story format with chapter titles being dates. I've discovered that there is way too much dialogue in some of the entries. How in the world could Hermione remember everything that's been said? Thus, more of story format. I'm sorry that I've failed those of you looking forward to a diary.

December 11th

Ron and Harry had set off yesterday without knowing that I had spent the morning with Draco in the pool, just as I had known that they would. They hadn't noticed anything out of order at all. Well, Ron hadn't. I think that Harry suspected something because, before the train took off, he had hugged me close and whispered in my ear so that Ron couldn't hear. "Don't get yourself into trouble, Hermione."

I only smiled and waved them off. As soon as the train was out of sight, I hurried back to the castle. Draco had promised me a surprise when I returned and I was bubbling over with excitement.

I hurried into the common room, expecting to find Draco waiting for me. Instead, there was an owl perched on the back of the couch with a narrow piece of parchment tied to his leg. I quickly untied the paper and scanned it, ignoring the tawny bird as it flew off.

He wanted me to dress warmly and meet him in front of the doors that led to the Great Hall. Unable to contain my smile, I raced up the stairs and hurried to do as he had instructed.

I'm fully aware that I shouldn't be running around the castle with Draco when I'm in a relationship with Ron but I can't help myself. He makes me feel as though I were flying. He's exhilarating while Ron is steady. He has an affect on me that Ron never had in his life.

I saw him, standing by the great oak doors, and my breath was nearly snatched from my lungs. I don't know if I'll ever get over that.

He saw me and smiled, walking across to the stairs as I descended. "I was almost afraid that you wouldn't come."

I beamed back. "I never miss out on a surprise."

Taking my hand, he led me out the doors and into the winter wonderland beyond. I followed him to the Quidditch pitch and then around to the back of it. There was a stand of trees that had been cut off from the rest of the Forbidden Forest.

He stopped and I about ran into him. I looked over his shoulder. "I've never noticed this before."

"I know," he replied. "Neither have I."

I looked at him. "Then…why are we here?"

Draco was smiling again. "I thought that you would enjoy trying to figure out what it is. You know, get some field work before they set you behind a desk at the Ministry." I must have looked taken aback because he quickly added. "You are planning on getting a job at the Ministry, aren't you? In the Study of Magical Happenings Department, right?"

I didn't say anything. Even Ron didn't know that. And I couldn't bring myself to tell Harry as he's not really a big fan of the Ministry right at this point in time.

"Well, I guess not." He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Merlin, I feel like a fool. We'll just go back."

Before he could turn around I found my voice though what I said wasn't exactly brilliant. "How did you know that?"

Sighing with relief, he looked back at me. "You can coax just about anything from Lavender Brown: Hogwarts Gossip Queen when she's caught rather smashed by the Headboy."

I had forgotten that I had told her I was considering the job. Now I regret it. I had told her that in confidence. I should have known better.

"Well, Miss Granger, what is the cause of this odd grove of trees?"

I pulled out my wand and began to assess the situation. I ran a few simple tests, compared the Forbidden Forest to the grove until I came to the conclusion that…"It's an illusion. This grove of trees is a mirror image of those right there." I pointed with my wand. "Every time a clump of snow falls over there, the same clump falls over here. It's a rather brilliant piece of work though I can't figure out why it's here."

"Well done, Miss Granger," Malfoy said, clapping quietly. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

"You can't give points for that."

"I'm Headboy. I can give points for whatever I want."

He had a point. Though it seemed to me an awful lot like abusing your position.

I picked up a handful of snow as he turned around and, packing it into a small ball, I threw it at his head. For someone who usually couldn't hit her mark if her life depended on it, I did surprisingly well, nailing him in the ear.

Unfortunately, I had been so busy with my own snowball that I had failed to notice what exactly he was doing. He spun around, his dangerous smile on his face and hit me head with his own snowball.

As I still had out my wand, I used it to the best of my ability. The snow was harder to control than water that I had been practicing on but my spell got the job done. Malfoy was soon buried up to his knees in snow and a rather large cloud was about to land on his head. I waited around only long enough to realize that he could escape and come after me before I took off running with a wide smile spread across my face.

I felt myself trip and fall headfirst into a soft drift. Then he was upon me, terrorizing me by tickling my sides. Squealing, I tried to roll away but I couldn't stop my body from rolling into a tight ball. "Draco," I shrieked through my laughing. "Stop. I can't breathe, I can't breathe."

It was partially true. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't get in a decent breath.

He rolled over onto his back in the drift beside me. Laughing, he said, "I haven't had this much fun in the snow…ever."

I had the sudden urge to build a snowman and, after voicing my craving, Draco readily agreed.

I don't know how long we spent out in the snow but, by the time we came in, there was a snowman and his snow-wife standing in front of the Hogwarts entrance. They were joined by their six snow-children, both sets of snow-grandparents and the family pet, Otto the Snow-Dog. They had an igloo mansion to escape any nasty weather and a lovely team of snow-unicorns to pull the oversized snow-sleigh.

We, of course, used a little magic to make them more lifelike. Neither Draco nor I had any sort of artistic talent I'm afraid to say. If we hadn't used a small amount of help from magic, they all would have looked like giant snowdrifts.

When we returned to the warm interior of Hogwarts, we were freezing cold and wet but we couldn't wipe the smiles from our faces. I didn't even care when Filch threw a tizzy because we tracked in snow as we ran all through the castle. I'm sorry to report that we scared a small group of first years out of their wits as we went barreling around a corner and nearly bowled them over.

Arriving at the common room, we collapsed onto the couch, laughing so hard we had tears in our eyes.

"Did you see their faces," Draco gasped, clutching his stomach.

I nodded rapidly. "I think they about wet themselves."

"They probably didn't think that the Headboy and Headgirl would run in the halls, traipsing snow throughout the school. It's not at all responsible."

Our laughing calmed down. "I believe that, seeing as this is a holiday, we are allowed to break a few rules."

"I agree. We needed a break from having to play role model to young witches and wizards world wide."

I scoffed. "Well, I didn't know that I was a role model. Just thinking about playing hero to young witches makes me tired. I think I'm off for a quick nap before dinner."

"Sleep well," he offered as I got off the couch. "I'll wake you when it's about time."

I nodded, not really registering what he was saying. My eyelids were already closing. By the time I reached my room, I collapsed face down on my bed and instantly fell asleep.

As to today, nothing really exciting happened. Though I did run back to see if I could figure out the tree illusion. Unfortunately, it had disappeared. I have the sneaking suspicion that Draco had something to do with it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

**Author's Note:** Thanks bunches to you who reviewed! I really enjoy reading about what you think. And thank you to those who added me to their alert lists and favorites lists. It really means alot. Now, on with the story...

December 12th

What am I doing? I can no longer deny that there something about Draco that I find annoying and attractive. He makes me question everything about my feelings towards Ron, everything I thought I had already sorted out.

Ron is comfortable, something I know. He is predictable, not at all spontaneous. He's as steady as the moon or the sun. No matter what happens, they will rise and they will set everyday. With Ron, I am safe.

But I find Draco exhilarating. I feel alive with him, as though I no longer have to hide who I am. I am free to be as I really am, not this perfect image that everyone has of me.

This image…I wish I could be rid of it, shed it like a snake sheds its skin. It isn't who I am anymore. Too many things have happened and I have seen too many things for me to be the ignorant schoolgirl everyone wants me to be.

Yet, I find myself wondering what people would think if I left Ron for Draco. Not that I care about whatthey would do to mebut they would accuse Draco, say he had me under the Imperius Curse or something equally dreadful. The last thing I want is for him to be scorned by the entire school, for everyone to be thinking as wrongly of him as I have these last six years.

So what do I do? Should I surrender myself to a life of predictability with Ron? Or do I finally shed the image and allow myself to fall head over heels for Draco, even if it may be short lived and accompanied by the worst kinds of rumors? I wish there was a spell for _this_ kind of thing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term Harry Potter affiliated belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it. 

December 13th

I find myself wishing that I wasn't with Ron, that somehow I was free of him. But then I discover that I wouldn't know how to end it. An owlis too impersonal and he deserves better than that. Yet I am afraid that, if I were to try to break it off in person as he is entitled to, I wouldn't be able to do it. How exactly would I do it? "Welcome back Ron. Oh, by the way, while you were away, I've fallen helplessly in love with your archenemy. But I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me and we can still be the best of friends."

I can see just how well that would go over. Even if he managed to restrain from beating me to a bloody pulp, he would never talk to me again. Of that I can be sure.

And Harry—poor Harry—wouldn't be able to look me in the eye ever again. He would take if for—if I'm right about him—he would try to preserve our friendship. But we would never be the "Golden Trio" again.

Did I want that to happen? If I acted upon my growing feelings for Draco, it most surely would.

I suppose I could ask Ginny. She's the closest thing to a female friend I have. And I could depend on her not to disclose anything we discuss to Harry or Ron. She would know what a mess that would make. It's not like she has an obligation to them. I'm not acting on my feelings…yet.

Ginny will know what to do.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

December 14th

Ginny didn't know what was wrong with me. I tried to explain what was happening to me, what I was feeling, but she didn't understand.

"Hermione, even those thoughts are traitorous," she said. "How could you do that to Ron?"

I didn't tell her about that it was Malfoy but she was still disgusted with me, as though I were something she didn't want to come near. "Forget them," she replied firmly when I tried in vain to describe my feelings and asked her what to do about them. "And don't tell Ron or Harry they ever existed."

She left the mirror then, disconnecting herself from me. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They started to fall as I set my end of the mirror on the table.

Forget them? How? How do you ignore something like that? They burn too strongly within me. If I ignore them and they continue to grow unchecked, would they one day explode and obliterate what was left of my sanity in the process? If they were contained without release, would they cause me to do something impulsive, something unwise?

And, if I did manage to keep them under wraps, would I be happy? Or would I be miserable, constantly wondering what could've happened had I acted on them?

I have so many questions and no books to give me the answers I seek. The only way to find the answers is by trail and error. I don't like this game the Fates seem to be playing with me. Anyway I look at it I hurt someone, rather it be myself or my friends.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

December 15th

Though I had been doing a successful job of avoiding Draco, I knew it was too good to last. He finally cornered me in the library this afternoon after a quick lunch—I couldn't bear the questioning glances he kept shooting across the Great Hall.

"Did I do something wrong, Hermione," he asked, startling me out of the book I was reading in the window seat. "Did I offend you somehow?"

I tried to keep reading, thinking that, if I kept this up, he would give up and leave me alone. I apparently made a mistake in assuming the same trick that worked on Ron would work on Draco.

He took the book gently from my hands and set it on a nearby table before looking back at me. "If I have, I'm sorry." I had never even heard of him apologizing to anyone before. "Tell me what I did so I don't make the same mistake again. I hate it when you are ignoring me. I've let you alone for three days, going over things I've done in these last few weeks, searching for where I went wrong. But I can't take it anymore. Just tell me so I can at least try to fix it before I go mental. I don't think I can go another day without you talking to me."

I blinked at him. Draco was evolving in leaps and bounds before my very eyes. In the span of a few short seconds, he had apologized, admitted to giving me space instead of demanding an answer and to thinking he had done something wrong. Add to that that he had wanted to change and I was in virtual shock. Slowly I replied, "Your only mistake was being so kind to me."

He opened his mouth to speak but I held up my hand, silencing him. "Let me finish." I had to get these thoughts out, even if they could cause irreparable damage. If I didn't, I would surely lose my sanity to trying to hide them. "I was happy in my relationship with Ron until that day you asked me if I hated you. Do you remember?" He nodded. "That's the day I realized that you had the same problem I had. We're both viewed a certain way and it isn't who we really are. You are seen as heir to everything your father is and I am seen as the perfect, ignorant schoolgirl who knows nothing outside of what books can tell me. Even after following Harry in his battles against Voldemort, they still have no faith that I would know what to do in a real situation."

"I never—"

"I'm not done." He closed his mouth. "I used to be happy with that, Draco. But because you were so kind to me, I began to question everything I thought I'd known. I began to see things differently.

The words began to flow from my tongue unhindered, spilling out thoughts that I never would have told him if I had really stopped to think about what I was saying. "And now I'm not sure where to go with this thing with Ron. It's never been that great but now that I want out, it's like I'm chained to him. All I want to do is be free of him but I can't wait until he comes back and a letter is a coward's way out. And Ginny says that I should just forget these feelings for you but I'm afraid that, if I were to try, I would explode—"

I found that I couldn't talk anymore because his lips were in the way. I felt my heart pounding wildly, my pulse racing to an alarming rate.

Too soon he pulled back and smiled at me.

"Blimey," I breathed, touching my fingertips to my lips to see if they were on fire as they felt they should be.

"Can I talk now?"

I nodded dumbly. Even if I had found I had something more to say (hardly likely as I couldn't even remember what we were talking about), I wasn't sure is I could get my voice to work properly.

"If my only mistake this past week was being kind to you, I'm not sorry." Draco took my hands, lightly brushing his thumbs over my knuckles. I was amazed at how this simple thing caused me to close my eyes and take a deep breath in attempt to calm my spinning head. "But, Hermione, I need you to know that I'm beyond sorry for everything I did that hurt you before."

"Draco—"

He smiled and placed a long finger to my lips. "I'm not done yet. I want you to know that I wouldn't change a thing about what happened this week. And I'm not just talking about the things we did. I know that I might be making a fool of myself but, please, hear me out.

"I've felt something else happen. Something changed the way I look at you. I mean no offense when I say that I had always viewed you as the know-it-all Mudbl— Muggleborn put on this earth to make my life hell. But you were the only one who thought I could change. You are the only one who doesn't see me as my father. I was a complete bastard towards you and you still didn't see me as a lost cause." He continued slowly. "After the next night, when I accidentally touched your hand—I had no idea it was going to effect me like that—I began to get the strangest sensations when I saw you, a sort of fluttering in my stomach. I've never felt something like that."

I could see that he had put a lot of thought into exactly what he had wanted to tell me. And I began to see that he was slowly revealing more to me than he had ever exposed to anyone. It was really quite shocking that he trusted me that much. "Draco, I—"

"Wait. If you're going to tell me that you haven't felt the same, I don't know if I could bear it. If, by some slim chance, you have felt it, I want you to really think about it before you break it off with Ron. I don't want to feel as though I forced you into leaving him."

I watched as he got up and walked out of the library, weaving in and out of study tables as he went. What was I going to do? I wanted to leave Ron. I know that much but was I leaving him for Draco?

Watching the doors close silently behind him, I realized what I needed to do.

I didn't know that I could get from the library to the common room in such a short amount of time. Of course, it helped that I ran the entire way. I paused only to say the password and clamor down the stairs.

I saw him standing in front of the sofa where he had just been sitting. I smiled as I made my way over to stand in front of him, unable to pull my eyes from his.

Then I couldn't restrain myself. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

December 17th

Yesterday afternoon, Ron called me through Ginny's hand held mirror. After a few moments of polite conversation, I couldn't hold it back any longer. The story (minus kissing Draco and the name Draco in general) spilled from my lips like water from an overflowing cauldron.

When I had finished, my rant was met with complete silence. This, I have come to realize, was the calm before the storm. I watched in silent horror as his amiable face turned from stunned to red-faced anger in a matter of seconds.

He began shouting at me; harsh things that he knew would wound me. But possibly the worst was the last thing he said to me before severing the connection. It wasn't a shout, not even loudly spoken. No, this was a low hiss that sent terrified chills up my spine.

"I never want to speak to you again. You're nothing but a Mudblood whore."

I felt as though he had torn my heart from my chest and was currently crushing it beneath his feet. I gaped at the mirror, unable to breathe as total senselessness froze all coherent thought but the need to run.

I threw the mirror against the wall, gaining little satisfaction as it shattered and fell noisily to the stone floor. Fleeing the scene, my sole mindset was to escape memories of Ron. I knew that to do that, I would need to leave behind the safety of the castle.

I burst through the doors giving way to the white world outside. It neglected to provide the peace I so desperately longed for and I soon found myself yearning to escape the familiar grounds. Memories of Ron were too strong even here. It was as though they were hunting me, like a hound on a scent. They would not stop until they finally overtook and pulled me down into their sea of despair.

There was only one place that lacked a sufficient reminder of Ron; the Forbidden Forest. Disregarding the warning it's name provided, I plowed through the crunchy snow and deep into the dark, mysterious wood.

In my irrational state, I found that the dark, twisted trees soon became looming monsters, towering over me, driving me deeper into their lair.

So I ran on, hoping to somehow out maneuver them and escape. But it was to no avail. My legs soon gave out and I collapsed, rolling onto my back and was able to see the quickly darkening sky through the thick canopy. It was like the trees were mocking me, showing me an exit I was unable to take.

And the sorrow that I had somehow managed to beat down erupted from my throat in a long mournful wail. My best friend never wanted to speak to me again. By best friend had called me a…a whore—a _Mudblood_.

_You still have Harry and Ginny_, a part of my mind told me.

But I knew that Ron would have wasted no time in turning them against me. And now I was lost in the Forbidden Forest with neither my winter cloak nor the energy to clamor to my feet and somehow find a way out.

Soft snowflakes began to fall through the canopy, landing lightly upon me, clinging to my eyelashes and melting against my cheeks. My breath came in quick puffs, turning to clouds in the cool winter air.

Then, as my dire situation became clear with rationalization seeping back into my mind, I had the strange feeling that I was being watched. It sent shivers up my spine. The eyes that watched me were not friendly or curious. They were hungry eyes, eyes of a predator that most likely knew this wood better than I knew the back of my hand.

Adrenaline gave me the energy to get to my feet, my hand automatically going to where my wand should have been. Dread and panic filling me as I realized that it was still sitting in the common room, I did what, at that time, seemed the perfect solution. I ran.

I heard it come after me. Its breathing was hardly audible. Light, running footfalls fell almost silently on the freshly fallen snow. It barely brushed the branches that seemed intent upon stalling my fleeing steps. All the same, these sounds pounded in my ears as though they were a brass band on parade day.

I saw a clearing and angled my path toward it. I, for some reason, didn't think that my pursuer would follow me into the open. Some strange instinct told me that, if it had been truly hungry, it would've attacked me while I lay wallowing in my sorrow. This predator enjoyed the chase.

I was right. It didn't follow me into the clearing. But now I suppose it was because it knew what lay hidden beneath the innocent looking crust of snow.

As soon as I heard the hollow crunch, I knew I had made a mistake. The snow beneath my feet gave way and plummeted with me some fifteen feet to the hollow's floor.

The last thing I remember before everything went black was a pair of golden eyes peering down at me from the rim above.

My next memories come in flashes, like incomplete pictures.

Someone shouting my name.

Draco.

Somehow getting out of the pit and to the hospital wing.

Pain, lots of pain.

The first complete memory I had after I was knocked unconscious was this morning in the hospital wing. It was so early there were still stars in the sky. Diamonds twinkling merrily at me against the dark silken night.

I stared up at the ceiling, the moonlit night casing an odd yet familiar blue light. A comfortable warmth was spreading from my thigh and my hand. I was alive.

I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. I was safely within Hogwarts' walls. The yellow eyes could not follow me here.

Or so I thought until the memories started to flash behind my closed eyelids.

Yellow eyes.

"Hermione!"

Someone shouting my name.

"Hermione!"

Draco peering down at me. He smiled with relief. "Hang on. I'll get you out."

A massive black shadow with bright yellow eyes pounced, knocking Draco out oh my sight. A sudden flash of purple light—

"Draco!" I sat bolt upright. Draco could be hurt somewhere out in the wood—

"Shh, it's okay Hermione. I'm right here."

My panicked eyes landed on him sitting next to me on the bed. He was in one piece. The yellow eyes didn't get him. Not taking my eyes off him for fear that he would disappear, I tentatively reached out and touched his cheek. My fingers traveled over his face lightly, as if, at any time, he would fade and would be left alone with only the memory of his features beneath my fingers.

I watched in amazement as his eyes fluttered closed and his breathing quickened at my touch. He covered my hand with his and brought the palm to his lips, softly kissing the sensitive center.

"Hermione," he whispered, his voice somewhat shaky. "Why didn't you run to me after your fight with Ron?"

"How'd you know…"

A spark of angry fire flashed in his eyes. "I heard the everything that weasel said to you. I've never been so angry." He paused, taking a deep calming breath. "But why didn't you come to me? Don't you trust me?"

"I—I don't know," was the best answer I could come up with. Not good by any means but my poor mind was still not functioning correctly. It couldn't seem to get around the fact that he had come after me and that he was safe beside me, not lying out in the cold somewhere.

He moved from the bed to the chair, letting go of my hand. I didn't want him to move away. I felt a strange sense of loss without him at my side. "If you don't want me around Hermione, just tell me and I'll leave you be."

At the thought of living my days without him, tears began to well up in my eyes. Unfortunately, he took my tears as an I-don't-want-you answer. He slowly stood and said softly, "I'm sorry Hermione. You won't have to worry about my presence in your life. I promise that I'll never bother you again."

I watched him walk out of the hospital wing in a sort of horrified silence. The lump in my throat was so large that I couldn't even squeak to get him to come back. I couldn't tell him that the last thing I wanted was for him to stop talking to me too, that I longed for his company every moment we were apart.

Where have I gone wrong? What have I done that the Fates feel the need to punish me so? Did I truly deserve to lose my best friends _and_ Draco in less than twenty-four hours? When had I lost complete control of my life and surrendered myself to just sit back and watch as it quickly unraveled around me?

Nothing made any sense anymore. And I had nowhere left to run.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

December 20th

I can't eat, haven't had more than pumpkin juice at breakfast and sometimes I just avoid the Great Hall. I tried forcing myself because I know that I need it to survive but everything tasted like paper. So I just don't eat.

I can't sleep. I lie in my bed for hours, waiting for sleep to come but it never does. And I don't know if I'm tired or if I'm just listless. I walk around in a daze, passing by students and teachers that are all excited about the coming of Christmas. They greet me cheerily but all I can manage is a mumbled hello as I continue my absent roaming. Thoughts of Christmas give me no joy, only misery.

I looked in the mirror this morning and my reflection was that of someone I didn't know. There were dark circles under my eyes. My once shiny hair hung limply about my shoulders, all its revolting bushiness replaced by something even more awful. I couldn't even force myself to paste a fake smile upon my lips. But the most surprising thing was the lack of life in my eyes. Usually deep cinnamon crystals dancing with vitality, they were now just dull, homely and ugly. They were just brown.

I turned away and threw on some clothes, unable to bring myself to care. On any normal day, I would've mourned the loss of light in my eyes, the lack of life in me. But this was not a normal day. This was another day of Draco avoiding me.

True to his word, Draco is keeping his distance. He walks out of the room almost as soon as I enter. He never talks to me, not even a hello in passing. When I do venture into the Great Hall, he sits with his back to me.

I want to walk up to him and throw my arms around his neck and tell him that I am miserable without him. Tell him that I can't breathe but the few seconds he is near me as we pass in the corridors, the few moments that he is in the same room as me. But as soon as I work up the courage, he is gone, leaving me alone as he promised.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

December 22nd

Another day without Draco. Another day that I spent sitting in the library with an open book on my lap staring unseeingly out the window. Or standing in the middle of the hall watching the soft snowflakes fall or the witch that guards the room that Draco took me to early one morning to go swimming as she danced through the trees.

I envy her I think. What I would give to be stuck in a painting, unaware of what was happening around me. To be without the troubles of friends and those that could be something more. To be alone in my solitude to dance lovingly among the trees as the young witch did. It would be better than stooping to what could be considered stalking.

Today I waited just around the turn in the staircase to my room for Draco to enter the common room. I needed so much to be near him and the only way to do that was hide in a room and wait. I'd tried other ways; they all failed me.

So I waited, and I waited, and at last I was rewarded. I listened as he walked across the stone floor and sat down; the cadence of his steps became committed to my memory.

I heard him sigh and I closed my eyes, picturing him in my mind. He was staring into the fire, the light dancing in his gray eyes, across his pale skin, through the fine strands of his white-blond hair.

His scent reached out to me, embracing me. I breathed it in as a man gulps water after wandering in the desert. I needed this to survive. It could almost sustain me. Almost.

I listened as his breathing slowed, slowed so much I knew that he was asleep.

Cautiously, I peeked around the bend, fearful that I could be wrong and, upon seeing me, he would vanish up the stairs to his room or, worse, out through the portrait hole.

He was stretched out on the couch, a pillow bunched beneath his head. I smiled my first real smile in five days. He was beautiful. Just as I had imagined, the firelight was dancing across his skin and through his hair.

I don't really know what made me do what I did next. Perhaps a span of forgetfulness in which I still thought that all was right between us.

Whatever it was, I found myself kneeling down if front of him. I gently pushed a stray lock of hair off his face with my fingers, careful not to touch him.

Then I did it. Softly, I placed a slow kiss on his cheek. Of course it doesn't seem like a brave, courageous thing to do now but, right then, I felt a rush of adrenaline pump through my veins. At that moment, it was like what I imagine kissing a sleeping dragon would be like. Only, not quite so scaly.

To my surprise, he did not wake up. Instead he smiled, murmured my name and rolled over, turning his back to me.

My name: Hermione. It was like hearing my name for the first time. The way he said it sounded so…right. He spoke it as someone speaks of something revered, something sacred.

I got slowly to my feet and climbed the stairs to my room. As I took the few short strides to my bedroom door, I peered over the banister, gazing down upon the sleeping angel below me.


	18. Chapter 18

December 24th

Christmas Eve

All the teachers and the students that have stayed behind spent the day preparing the Great Hall for the Christmas Eve festivities. Professor Dumbledore has decided, due to the increased amount of students that have stayed at the school this year, that we're to have a formal dress party to celebrate the season. I _had_ been looking forward to it but I just couldn't seem to dredge up the excitement I once felt.

Most of it stems from Professor Dumbledore calling me into his office today. I ascended the stairs and knocked on the door, wondering all the while just what I could've done to attract his notice. Had I really let myself go that far? Then I realized that I didn't care. So what if he'd noticed? I was a big girl. I could handle this on my own…no matter what kind of piss poor job I was currently doing.

"Come in, Miss Granger," the Headmaster called.

I pushed the door open and saw the back of Draco's head resting against the back of one of the two chairs placed before the desk. He didn't turn and look at me—I wished he would, though I knew inside that he wouldn't. Instead, he kept his eye focused on the intricate molding running around the top perimeter of Dumbledore's desk. Our meeting was really off to a great start.

"Have a seat," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. He held out a small dish of candies as I took the seat beside Draco. "Lemon Drop?"

I politely declined and waited for him to say what he had to say so I could leave. I felt the uncomfortable feeling of needing to escape, just barely preventing myself from reverting to my animal instinct and running for the door. That is what had gotten me in this mess with Draco in the first place. If only I had run to him instead…

"As you know," the professor started, "there is to be a formal dress party tonight. That means there is to be dancing." I had an inclination of what he was going to ask but I still wasn't prepared for the words that came next. "I was thinking that you two, being Headboy and Headgirl, would be the perfect couple to start off the festivities."

I would dance with Draco? That would mean that he couldn't avoid me. It would the perfect time to tell him everything that I felt. But would I be able to get the words out? And just what exactly _did_ I feel?

"Sir, with all due respect, I fear that I shall have to decline," Draco replied hastily.

So much for that idea.

Dumbledore folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. "Well, that certainly puts a damper on my plans. Oh well, I guess it can't be helped. Thank you for stopping by."

Draco practically jumped from his chair in his rush to get to the door.

_Enough of this_, I thought. It was doing neither of us any good. "Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

"Yes?"

Draco turned back around and looked at me.

"I think that Draco and I"—I stole a quick glance at Draco before looking back at the professor—"would be happy to dance the first dance tonight."

I could feel Draco's shock roll off him in waves, just as I had once felt his anger. But if nothing else came of this, then at least he would know that I didn't detest him, as he seemed to think.

"Wonderful," the Headmaster cried. "You will be entering the Great Hall at seven o'clock exactly. Hopefully both of you will be there." He shot a meaningful look at Draco.

"Yes sir," Draco said, gathering up his shock and stashing it away as though it had never existed. "I will be there." He walked out the door and could be heard descending the stairs.

I prepared to follow but Dumbledore stopped me by saying, "Is there anything you wish to tell me, Miss Granger?"

I met his twinkling blue eyes and felt the urge to spill everything before him. I suddenly wanted to tell him just what was going through my head. Maybe he could tell me what I was feeling, give me answers where my books had failed. Maybe I couldn't handle this on my own.

"No, Professor."

He nodded knowingly as I started through the door. "Miss Granger."

"Yes sir?"

"Sometimes we feel as though we need to hurt those we love in order to protect them."

I blinked at him in confusion. "Sir?"

"You mean to him than you know Miss Granger." He smiled warmly. "Now, be gone. You have only six hours to get ready and down to the Great Hall. And from my experience with women, I have a feeling that you will be making full use of those six hours."

I turned and exited the office, going directly to my room. I had six hours to be rid of the circles beneath my eyes. Six hours to liven up my hair. Only six hours before Draco danced with me and then left to keep some stupid promise that I couldn't dig up the courage to tell him to forget. Only six hours to get my feelings in order.

I was down at the doors of the Great Hall at ten 'til seven. I had been able to do very little about the circles beneath my eyes but use a little makeup. My hair was pulled back in a loose bun at the base of my neck. A little potion had given it a bit more life, putting a little curl in the loose strands.

Glancing at the huge clock, I nervously waited for Draco to arrive. The bells were about to chime seven o'clock when I felt a light tap on my shoulder and heard him clear his throat.

I swung around and there he was, just on time. It was all I could do to restrain from throwing my arms around him and kissing him.

The chimes tolled. The great doors opened. Draco offered me his arm, which I took, and he escorted me through the doors to the dance floor.

As soon as our feet touched the dance floor, a silence fell over the crowd. I could nearly see the thoughts forming in their minds as though they were flashing in neon lights. _The Gryffindor Princess dancing with the Slytherin Prince. Poor souls. What was Dumbledore thinking when he paired them for the Head positions?_

Tentatively, Draco put one hand on my waist; the other took mine loosely, his fingers carefully curled around it. I somehow forced myself to breathe as I rested my free hand on his shoulder. This was the first time he'd touched me since that fateful night in the hospital wing, the night that I seemed to lose everything I cared for in one fell swoop.

I closed my eyes and just let the music wrap itself around me. I was in his arms. He was holding me; nothing could hurt me as long as I was here.

_You mean more to him than you know, Miss Granger._

What had Draco told Dumbledore that had made the old professor so sure? I looked over Draco's shoulder and saw the white-haired man in question drop me a good-natured wink.

Draco spun me out and, for a very tense, breathless moment, he seemed to hesitate before pulling me back into his arms. For that one moment, I was afraid that he would let go of my hand and leave me to face the unsafe world alone. It was possibly one of the worst moments of my life.

Then he was guiding me across the floor as though nothing had happened, as though the thought had never crossed his mind. Maybe it had been no more than a hallucination brought on by my fear of it being true.

But, when he spun me out again, I had the same fear of his leaving me. It was no longer just a fear that he would leave me on the dance floor. No, this fear stretched so much deeper than that. What I feared was that he would leave me in a more profound way.

Draco Malfoy had somehow managed to become a safe haven for me. He was one of the few solid things currently in my life. Odd since loving him had made my life start to unravel. I had just realized how much I needed him too late.

Or maybe, just maybe, I still had a chance. What could it hurt? My heart was already starting to fracture.

"Draco," I whispered, not meeting his eyes for fear of losing courage. What if Dumbledore had been wrong?

"Yes, Hermione?"

My name. Not Granger, not Mudblood. _My name._

Taking a deep breath, I moved closer, resting my chin on his shoulder so my mouth was next to his ear. "I love you."

He stiffened and I moved back quickly. I had frightened him. I should've known that Dumbledore didn't know the matters of the heart, no matter that he knew everything else.

He spun me out again, as the dance called for. This was it. Would he let go and walk away or pull me back into the safety of his arms?

I felt his hand start to loosen it's hold on mine. He was letting go! He couldn't do that. I didn't know how much longer I could last without him. He couldn't let go of my hand.

"We have to finish the dance, Draco," I said urgently and as quietly as I could—quite a feat if you could've felt the way my heart was pounding within my chest.

He looked around and saw the same thing I did. Everyone's eyes were on us and us alone, the Slytherin Prince and the Gryffindor Princess. It was possibly history in the making. Dumbledore had proposed the idea of us dancing together if for nothing else than to show that the gap between Slytherin and Gryffindor could be breached. We were supposed to be the proof.

I could see what was going on behind his eyes as the flitted from face to face before landing on mine. He knew what his responsibility was, what was expected of him. He wasn't Headboy because he was dense. I heard him sigh as he pulled me back to him, holding me close.

_Thank Merlin _I thought as I rested my head on his shoulder. If nothing else, during this dance I could pretend that he loved me in return, that he treasured me as Dumbledore had said. I could imagine that my loving him hadn't brought him nearly abandon me.

I could feel his breath in my ear and against my neck, fluttering the loose curls that hung there. His hand rested in the small of my back, gently pulling me closer.

Then, all too soon, the song was ending and he was taking a large step away from me. He bowed at the shoulders, pale strands of white blond hair falling it a gossamer curtain about his face, as I dipped into the expected curtsy.

I watched in a kind of silent horror as he turned and walked off the floor, nearly disappearing into the crowd that swamped around me. He really was leaving me this time. And there was nothing—short of running after him—nothing that I could do.

"May I make a suggestion?"

I shook my head and smiled sorrowfully up at Professor Dumbledore where he had come to stand beside me. "I'm going after him."

His blue eyes twinkled merrily behind his half-moon spectacles. "I always knew you were a bright one, Miss Granger. Sometimes youthfully rash but bright nonetheless."

I started to push my way through the crowd of people, hurrying to the doors. I had to get out before he disappeared around some corner and I lost him.

The crowd thinned and I picked up the hem of my dress, running the last few yards to the doors, bursting through into the foyer only to find it hopelessly empty. He was gone. I'd missed him.

The great doors swung shut behind me, silently shielding my hopelessness from the prying eyes in the Great Hall. I was alone in the grand foyer with a number of directions in which to start searching. Hogwarts was huge; how could I ever hope to find him?

It finally sunk in. I had realized what he had come to mean to me too late and now I'd lost him. I would never get another chance. He would never tell me that he loved me. He would never hold me in his arms again. He would never be my rock in the storm. He was gone and I would never get him back.

Sinking to the cold, stone floor, I allowed my sorrow to wash over me in waves. Tears flowed unabashed from my eyes, over my cheeks and into my hands; he was never coming back to me. My shoulders shook, my breath hitched in my chest, my heart was breaking.

"Hermione?"

I looked up to see Draco standing a few feet in front of me, a look of concern creasing his brow. In a distant part of my mind I thought it odd that I'd never quite comprehended just how tall he was, how slender and aristocratic. I never thought about how his hair shown in the night or how it was nearly paler than moonbeams. I never saw just how his eyes were brighter in color than the stars.

"Are you all right?"

I shook my head, fighting a whole new wave of tears. "You-you l-left me," I stammered, looking down at the floor and swiping viciously at the tears.

He was silent for a moment before saying softly, "I'm only trying to keep you safe, Hermione."

_Sometimes we feel as though we need to hurt those we love in order to protect them._

"Yeah," I replied quietly. Somewhere between that stupid promise he'd made in the hospital wing and now I recognized that he wasn't staying away because of said promise. He was keeping his distance because he was afraid of what would happen if we were together. I think that it became clear to me with Dumbledore's words in his office. But that didn't change that it still hurt, as I promptly told Draco.

"Oh, Hermione." He fell on his knees before me and took hold of my hands. "I wish there was a better way—"

"There is. There has to be," I injected, clinging to his hand for fear he would get up and walk away. "This can't be what's best."

He cupped my cheek, wiping some of my tears away with the pad of his thumb. "But there isn't another way. This _is_ for the best."

"No, no, no." I shook my head. "This is not right. I love you, Draco, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let anything stand in the way of that."

"Can't you see? Can't you understand what will happen if _they_ find out? If Weasley and Potter get wind of this—"

"If Harry and…Ronald have a problem with this then let them. This isn't about them. This isn't about Voldemort and his Death Eaters." I took his face between my hands. "If the rest of the world has a problem with it, it doesn't matter, because this is about you and me. No one else."

He sighed, taking my wrists in his hands as if to push them away. "I wish it were that simple."

"It could be if you'd just let it be. All you have to do is just…give up caring about what everyone else will think." I pushed some stray strands of hair off his brow. "Just follow your heart."

"And if my heart tells me that this could only end in you getting hurt…?"

I smiled dejectedly. "Then you're listening to your head, not your heart."

He met my eyes. He looked so lost, as though he didn't know what to do. I don't think that there was ever a time when Draco Malfoy didn't know what to do. "How do you know?"

"The heart is selfish."

He smiled ruefully. "I wish I could believe that," he said under his breath.

"And why can't you?" I moved closer. "Draco Malfoy, I love you. I love _you_. I want to be with you and I won't let anything short of your not feeling the same way stop me from doing so. If you believe nothing else, believe that."

He rested his forehead against mine. "There's no way to keep you safe, is there?"

I shook my head. "Whether you like it or not, you're a dangerous man. And I wouldn't have you if you were any different."

"You know," he breathed, tangling his fingers in my hair and gently pulling it from its bun. "I thought I could just ignore you and all this would just go away. Now I'm happy you knew better."

I smiled, kissing him soundly on the lips. "I always do."


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

December 25th

Christmas Day

I woke up this morning to the most beautiful sight that I could remember. Being encircled by Draco's arms, his face was only scant inches from mine. Looking across the pillow at him, I realized something that was slightly scary. I had just spent the night in the arms of a man. Though nothing really happened, I had slept in Draco's arms on a bed, _my_ bed. And I didn't have a single regret.

I kissed his forehead and started attempting to disentangle myself from his limbs. But the harder I tried the tighter his hold on me got.

Finally surrendering, I looked at him. A smile crept onto his lips as he pulled me back to him. Softly, he whispered, "I told you. I don't ever want to let you go. And I don't plan on it anytime soon."

"But Draco," I started sweetly.

"Oh no. It is still very early. I believe that we've got a few more hours of lounging around to do." He kissed me slowly. "Besides, don't you want to just lie around in my arms. I know I'm not looking forward to the inevitable. I think we should postpone it just a bit more. Please?"

What could I say? Thank you but I'd rather get up and join the hustle and bustle of life where people are not going to like our relationship instead of lying here, carefree in your arms? I think not.

"Okay. Just a few more hours."

He kissed my cheek. "You won't regret it I promise."

I smiled. How could I regret any moment spent in his presence?

We awoke some hours later to the sun rudely shining through my windows at us. At least that's what _he_ says woke _him_. I was more pleasantly roused by his sweet kisses.

"I have a question for you Hermione," he said, leaning over me.

I smiled up at him. "And what would that be?"

"If we are going to be entering this…can I call it a relationship?" I nodded. "Right…where was I? Oh yes…entering this relationship, I must know a few things."

"And what would those few things be, do tell?"

He smiled slyly down at me. "I want to know if I may kiss you here."

His lips kissed the sensitive spot just behind my ear. I felt a rush of fire in my veins at this simple touch.

"Y-yes," I stuttered, not able to keep the smile from my lips. "You may kiss me there."

His smile grew with boyish excitement. "And can I do this?"

His lips started near my ear and slowly caressed their way down my neck. His hand traveled before him, sweeping across the ridge of my shoulder and brushing aside the thin spaghetti strap of my dress. His lips followed, passing across my shoulder before he replaced the strap of my dress.

With my eyes closed I nodded, unable to find my voice. I had never been kissed quite like that. In fact, I had never _allowed_ myself to be kissed like that. And I found myself wondering why. It had felt so… good.

"Hermione?"

I opened my eyes and gazed up at him. The light shone in on him, his hair catching it and forming a sort of halo around his pale face. His smile was so angelic, so warm. Everything about him was radiant.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," I whispered, placing my hand against the side of his face.

He took my hand in his and kissed the palm. " I love you, too…Hermione."

The light shifted and his halo disappeared as his sly smile come back to his face. "May I begin again?"

I couldn't wait to see what new ways he would kiss me so I replied, "By all means, please continue."

Almost an hour later, he had put me into a blissful place that I hoped I would never return from. Now, I know what you're thinking but the answer is no. My virginity is still safely intact. The most he did was slip the straps of my dress off my shoulders. In fact, he was a perfect gentleman, always asking permission before he continued.

But my head was spinning so fast that I couldn't tell up from down. All my mind could focus on was what his touch was doing to me.

"Hermione," he said softly, looking across the pillow at me. "I have something for you."

Something more? How could there be more than this?

He sat up and began to take something out of his pocket. "No looking," he said as I sat up to get a better look.

So I turned around. "Is this better."

I could see our reflections in the mirror. He smiled at me. "Close your eyes."

I pretended to pout as I let my eyes fall closed. "Better?"

I felt the bed shift as he got off and took my hand, pulling me to my feet. "Come with me."

Keeping my eyes closed, I followed him a few paces. When he stopped, I stopped. "Now, stay here."

I could feel him move around the room but I couldn't tell what he was doing. "Draco?"

"Just a minute, love."

Love. He had just called me love. I'd never been called love before. Not by past boyfriends, not by my parents, nobody.

When I felt his fingers suddenly brushing against my neck, I have to admit that I gasped softly. It was a reaction extracted from me partly by surprise, partly because a touch that soft felt so entirely erotic that I couldn't help myself.

His arms wrapped loosely around my waist as his whispered in my ear. "You may open your eyes now."

My eyes fluttered open and looked at our reflection. Around my neck was a fine gold chain, so fine that it seemed as though it wasn't there at all. Dangling in the middle, nestled on my chest, was a small heart shaped locket.

My hand reached up and touched it, as if unable to believe that it was real.

"It works like a Pensieve," he said, flipping open the locket. "I've already put a memory in but if you'd like me to take it out—"

"No," I interrupted softly with a smile. "Show me how it works."

"All you have to do is touch your finger to it like this." He took my hand and, using my index finger he touched it to the silvery liquid inside.

I felt myself being pulled forward as the room around me around me gave a sudden pitch and we were both lurched forward into the locket.

When the room had righted itself, I found that I was in the library, Draco holding my hand. The entire scene was dim, oddly lacking of color. It wasn't black and white just…aged, like old parchment. Or maybe like looking at everything through an amber tinted windowpane.

"Where are—"

He shushed me by placing a finger to my lips. "Just watch."

I followed his pointing finger to the doors as they opened to reveal…him. The sunlight shown through the windows, lighting upon him as though it was a spotlight. His dark robes billowed along behind him as he walked briskly across the library toward the tables near the back.

I felt a tug as the present Draco pulled me gently along. "We mustn't fall behind."

We followed the memory Draco until he reached an occupied table.

I suddenly realized just where we were. It was the day that Draco had kissed me, the day that had literally turned my life on its head. The day I came to grips with the fact that I loved him.

We watched as our memory selves conversed. As they kissed, I felt everything I had felt in that very moment come rushing down on me tenfold.

Then the memory was fading and I found myself standing before my mirror, Draco behind me with his fingers intertwined with mine.

"It's really a foolish memory without vast amounts of meaning behind it," he whispered. "I just didn't want to ever forget it."

I smiled at him and closed the locket. "It's perfect. I'm thankful that I get to keep it always."

He kissed my cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

January 1st

New Year's Day

Ron and Harry are coming back tomorrow. I'm scared about how they'll react to Draco and me. True to his word, Ron hasn't spoken to me since that fateful day. I've gotten a letter from Harry though. He told me that he "only wanted me to be happy" and he thought that Ron was acting irrationally. "It wasn't like you broke it off in a letter or something really impersonal," his letter said.

I was so amazed that I had to reread the letter six more times before I wrote the reply. I still had a friend. Harry would still be my friend.

But I was still nervous—I hadn't told Harry about Draco—and Draco could tell.

"Are you worried about tomorrow," he asked, playing with my hair as I lay on the couch staring into the fire, my head in his lap. "Because I'll beat them to a bloody pulp if you want me to."

I laughed. "There's no need for violence, Draco. I'm only worried about Ron really. Harry seems very supportive."

"Ah, but you didn't tell him about me," he said softly. "They're going to want blood, my blood. And my head. Possibly on a silver platter." He shuddered.

"And probably all your entrails as well." I tore my eyes away from the fire and looked up at him. "We might have to go into hiding," I replied with a smile. "Change our names and move to a deserted island where we will have no contact with anyone."

"We'll have to change my hair color. It's a very Malfoy-ish trait," he laughed.

"And I can be Jane and you can be Frank."

"Frank? I never liked the name Frank. Short for Franklin." He shuddered.

We broke into a fit of laughter. It was absolute lunacy to even think that we could hide from Harry and Ron. Let alone Malfoy Sr. and other loyal Death Eaters.

Which brought around an entirely somber thought. What are we going to do about _them_?

"I suppose they'll just have to accept that they won't be welcoming the last generation of Malfoy to their ranks," he'd replied seriously. "It wasn't as though I was going to join anyway but…" he trailed off, looking down at me strangely. "Hermione, you have to be careful. They won't think twice about using you to get to Harry or Ron…or me."

I shifted to my back to make it easier to look at him. "I knew the risks going in Draco," I said softly, twining my fingers with his. "And, though I give you permission to worry, don't start treating me like a porcelain doll. I can take care of myself."

He dropped his eyes to mine and smiled half-heartedly. "I've gone to school with you for seven years. I know full well that you can take care of yourself. I just want you to be safe. Don't do anything…Gryffindor-ish."

"I know," I replied with a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. This, in turn, led to a rather long bout of snogging each other senseless.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

January 2nd

Harry and Ron arrived back today. I avoided them most of the day, locking myself away in the common room with Draco. I knew that I would have to face them eventually; I didn't want to hide this from them forever. But I was so scared of how they'd react. What would they do to Draco? I knew that they would be angry but would they really want…blood? It was such a barbaric idea. Surely they would see past that…right?

"You're going to have to tell them, love," Draco told me, his hand tracing an odd pattern of swirls across the bare skin of my arm.

"Can't we just keep it a secret," I said though I knew that it wasn't possible. "No one will ever have to know."

"I know that you don't really want that. It'd tear you to shreds."

I shifted to look up at him from where my head was lying on his thigh. I've recently found that this is one of my most favorite positions—lying on the couch with my head in his lap and his elegant hands tracing his hypnotic designs on my skin or combing gently through my hair. "If it'd keep them from beating you within an inch of your life…"

I let the rest of my sentence fade. He knew I was scared for him. I'd seen Harry and Ron take on Voldemort and Death Eaters; I knew what they were capable of. If they thought that Draco posed any danger to me whatsoever, they would not hesitate to "make him go away". And if I told them about Draco, they would immediately assume foul play. What if I couldn't get them convinced that I really loved him.

"Stop worrying," he soothed. "I can take care of myself."

"I know, it's just—"

There was an abrupt knocking at the entrance to the common room. "Hermione? It's me. Can I come in?"

Harry! It was Harry! What was I going to do now?

I instantly sat up and began looking around for places to hide. "I know you're in there, Hermione."

"What are we going to do, Draco," I whispered turning to look at him. I was slightly taken aback by his calm appearance. There was a smirk inching its way across this face and he had propped his feet on the coffee table. "_Well_?"

"Relax, Hermione," he replied coolly. "I'll just act like my old arrogant self and then disappear into my room because I can't stand to be in the same room as you and Potty. They still think I hate you, remember?"

I have to admit: I doubted this plan. But I couldn't come up with anything short of ignoring Harry and that obviously wouldn't help my cause. So, with a quick peck on his cheek and a brave smile, I whispered, "Lock the door behind you. I don't know just how well he's going to take this."

He nodded, trademark smirk now firmly in place, and watched me go to the portrait hole.

I swung it open, thinking of how best to break the news to Harry. "Sorry about that, Harry. I didn't hear you."

"It's all right," he replied, stepping through the entrance.

"Well," I said trying to hide my nervousness as I led the way back to the couch. Draco didn't look up from his book even when Harry sat down in one of the armchairs. "What brings you by?"

"I'd like to talk to you"—he looked pointedly at Draco—"_privately,_ I think."

Draco flipped the page nonchalantly and, without pausing in his reading, replied, "Then you can leave, Potter, and take _her_ with you."

Ah, my cue. "This is my common room, too. You have no right to order me about."

For me, he lowered the book and glared at me. If I hadn't seen the merry glint in his silver eyes, I would've thought that he was truly angry with me. "Granger, I—"

"Mister Malfoy, sir?" As one, our heads jerked to where a house elf had just appeared with a quiet pop. Not waiting for a reply, he squeaked, "The Headmaster says you're needed on the third floor. The Headmaster says to tell you it will only take a minute. He says something about a group of returning first years and Peeves."

Without waiting for a reply, the elf snapped his fingers and disappeared with the same pop that announced his arrival.

"Well, I guess _you'll_ have to leave, Malfoy. Damn shame really," Harry said sarcastically. "I thought that we were making so much progress."

Draco sneered and stood, setting his book on the end table. "This isn't over, Granger."

With that, he strode from the room with an elegant grace that I had to stop myself from marveling at. It wouldn't do to reveal that change until he was safely out the door.

As soon as the door was shut behind Draco Harry turned from his study of the fire. "Something's changed, Hermione," he said quietly. "Something about you…and Malfoy."

The first thought that flew through my mind was that he knew. He knew about Draco and I and he wanted to talk me out of it. But I couldn't assume and give something away so I replied coolly, "What would that be Harry?"

He smiled oddly. "He's different around you. I don't know if I like it or not."

There was still hope that I could keep Harry from killing Draco through all this. If he'd had all holiday to come to terms with it—

"I don't like it," he interrupted firmly with a resolute nod of his head. "I think he's trouble, Hermione. He could be up to something. Doing dirty work for Voldemort perhaps."

So much for Harry accepting it.

"Harry," I started slowly, gauging his reaction. "He's not like that. He's different—"

"How do you know that," Harry inquired, plainly outraged at such a notion and causing me to shrink further back against the cushions of my chair. "How can you trust him?"

"I-I just do," I stuttered. "I can't explain it, Harry. You haven't seen him the way I have. It's—he's not at all like what we've always thought."

There was a silence as Harry stared at me in disbelief. All these years with Harry has made it easy for me to read him. But right then, for the life of me, I couldn't see past the look of shock and betrayal engraved upon his usually placid features.

"What's he done to you," Harry whispered, lowering himself to the coffee table and taking my hands in his. "Is he blackmailing you? Did he curse you? You can tell me, Hermione. Me and Ron, we'll stop him."

I shook my head. "No, Harry. He's not doing anything like that."

"Is it something else then?" He stood up in frustration and began to pace in front of the hearth. "He's done something. I know it."

"He _has_ done something." I smiled ruefully. It wasn't what he thought but Draco had done something to me. He told me that he loved me. From then on, it had been an uphill battle to not return those feelings—not that I was fighting very hard. "He's made me fall in love with him, Harry."

He stalled in his pacing and turned slowly on his heel, facing me. "You—but—you don't mean that. You can't. You're meant to be with Ron. He's meant to beg your forgiveness and you're supposed to give it to him. It'll go back to the way things were before he cheat…"

I had stopped really listening to Harry's ramblings because I knew that these desires of his would never happen. But he'd started to say something about Ron and I was suddenly very attentive to it. "Ron did _what_? He cheated on me? When? With who?"

I was livid. Here I had been feeling so guilty for even having _thoughts_ about another man and he had full out cheated on me. Probably out shagging her senseless even as Harry was here pleading his cause. How _dare_ he?

"Harry," I asked, careful to keep my voice from shaking with rage. "How long have you known?

Harry was staring at me, eyes wide. He knew that he had let something slip that he shouldn't have and there was no going back. "Hermione…I'm sorry." He sat down on the coffee table again. "I tried to stop him; really I did. I told him that it was wrong, that you didn't deserve that but…Hermione, he was so…frustrated."

I didn't have to ask what that meant. Ron had been trying to get in my pants for months. It would make sense that he would go get it somewhere else if he couldn't get it from me. I just didn't want to believe it. "How long, Harry?"

He sighed and dropped his face into his hands. "Since the beginning of December."

Almost a month. "Then I suppose he rather liked having me as an excuse to end it, eh? And he called _me_ a whore. What a hypocrite."

"Hermione," Harry said softly. I looked up at him, blinking back the tears. My friend, the only third of the Golden Trio I still had on my side. "He's sorry. He wants you back."

Or maybe not.

"He doesn't deserve her."

Harry spun around as my head jerked up at the new voice entering our conversation. Draco was standing just within the entrance of the common room. And he wasn't happy.

"Get out, Potter," he snarled, his lip curling in disgust.

"You can't order me about," Harry spat, standing up in his defense. "I'm Hermione's guest."

I laid a hand gently on his arm. "Harry"—he looked down at me—"perhaps it's best if you left." The same look of betrayal and shock crossed his face as when I told him that Draco was different. But I wasn't concerned for his feelings anymore. He had been trying to tell me that Ron was sorry. He had been apologizing for him. Ron probably didn't even know Harry was here. "I—I just need some time so…please?"

Harry shook his head before replying in wonder, "I don't even know you anymore, Hermione." With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

Draco's eyes followed him until the portrait had swung closed and then he was on his knees in front of me, my shaking hands captured in his. His brow was creased in worry, his gray eyes dark with concern. "Are you all right?"

I shook my head, tears spilling down my cheeks. I was an ostracized third of the famous Golden Trio. Only we were no longer a trio. It was me against the new and apparently improved Golden _Duo_. I had been dropped to the side as though I were a piece of rubbish. After a near seven years of being inseparable, I was dead to them.

"How could I have been so _stupid_, Draco?" I whispered through a harsh sob. "A month? _A bloody month?_ How could I not have seen it?"

Draco pulled me into his arms, rubbing comforting circles across my back. "It's not your fault, love," he whispered. "They've no right to treat you like this."

At those words, my tears of sorrow were changed into tears of anger. Not at Draco but rather at Harry and Ron. Draco was right. I hadn't deserved any of this. Ron had no right to even claim me as his girlfriend, not for the last month. He was a two-timing bastard. And, if I hadn't been set on making it work, I might've noticed. He'd slowed up on his insisting that we spend more time together. He no longer wanted my help with homework—even if it was an excuse to try and snog me senseless. And Harry! —Harry had the _nerve_ to come to me and beg me to forgive Ron. And he'd known what Ron was doing behind my back. _For a bloody month!_

"I want them to pay, Draco," I sobbed into his chest, my tears soiling his dark robes. "I want them to know just what they've done to me."

"Hush, love," Draco soothed into my ear, pulling me over to the couch and setting me on his lap. I buried my face in his neck as his fingers combed through my hair. "You don't mean that. Revenge isn't all it's cracked up to be."

I smiled sadly. "This coming from a Slytherin," I said softly, my anger already fading as his fingers traced his decisive swirls across my skin. (These patterns have a magic all their own. I wouldn't be surprised to find that he had somehow woven a spell with them. Merlin knows he possesses enough power to do such an extraordinary task.)

"True," he whispered as my eyes drifted closed.

There had to be something more to the swirls he traced. I wanted so badly to ask—knowledge is the ultimate power—but I was asleep before I had a chance.

AN: This chapter is apt to change...I'm not really happy with it yet but I've been feeling guilty for not updated this story--or providing anything else for that matter. I'm truly sorry that's it's been soooo long.

AN2: Did anyone else realize that the first entry of this story was Dec. 2nd and today is Dec. 2nd? That really only means that I've been working on this thing for a year and I've only got a month worth of entries done. I'm pathetic...


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other _Harry Potter_ affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling and the title is the title of a poem by Robert Frost. Anything you recognize that doesn't fit under the term _Harry Potter affiliated_ belongs to its respective owners. It was not my intention not to give proper due to those who deserve it.

January 3rd

I woke up this morning and, for almost the first time since Harry and Ron had become my friends, I didn't want to see them. It is over between us but I don't think my mind has quite gotten around it yet. I think it will take a long while for the truth of the matter to really settle in. I mean, I know that they won't talk to me and I know that I'm hurt—I can feel it in my heart—but I refuse to fully accept it's permanent. Not yet.

I want to know that I never purposely cut them out of my life. I am determined to continue as though there is nothing wrong. Let them snub me, let them ignore me, let them publicly humiliate me—I know that I'll be stronger for it. And when they come crawling back to me begging forgiveness, I want to be able to hold over their heads that I did nothing wrong, that they treated me terribly even when I had done nothing to deserve it.

When I didn't come down the stairs for breakfast, Draco knocked softly on the door and peeked into my room. "Not coming down then, love," he asked, coming and sitting on the edge of the bed.

I looked up at him from where my head was lying on my pillow. "I'm not feeling well. I think that I'll just stay in today."

He combed a few strands of hair away from my face, fanning it across the pillow. "Not up to facing them yet?"

I shook my head and provided a mumbled, "No."

He nodded, continuing to play absent-mindedly with my hair. "Would you like me to stay in with you? We've still got a day before we've got to return to classes. I wouldn't mind spending it solely in your company."

"I don't mind," I replied, quietly. "I could use a friend today."

He smiled and kissed my forehead. "Then a friend I shall be. What should we do first? Chess, exploding snap—I have to admit: I'm not really fond of the game since I got my eyebrows singed off in third year. I'd much rather play chess, but I'll give that cursed card game another go if you want."

I laughed softly. "I was thinking along the lines of talking."

"Ah," he replied. "I think I can handle that." He kicked off his shoes and crawled onto the bed beside me as I made room for him. Leaning back against some pillows he conjured up, he gathered me to him with one arm and crossed his ankles. "What will be our first topic?"

"Something light I think. Let's remember that I just woke up."

"Oh, yes. I've got it. Books. You love books. You eat, sleep, and drink books. When you're not dreaming of me—"

"Draco Malfoy!"

"What? I thought you liked books. Books not a good subject? Damn! I thought I was off to a good start…"

Laughing, I shook my head and answered, "No, books are fine. But you're not supposed to know that I'm dreaming of you."

He smiled down at me shiftily. "I knew it! How could you not dream of this body? I mean, talk about perfection…"

I hit him in the stomach. "So I read this great book last week…"

Three hours later, we had gone through books, the oddest wizarding laws, and a number of Muggle inventions that shouldn't have even been invented. And, after discussing some of our strangest dreams that we could remember, we were starting to come back to the root of my most recent problems: Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

"You're going to have to face them sometime, Hermione," Draco said, his fingers absently combing through my hair. "You can't stay in here forever."

I sat up and looked at him leaning against my headboard. "Why not? You could bring me all my course work and teach me everything. You're a brilliant wizard, Draco. You wouldn't have any difficulties showing—"

"Hermione," he interrupted. "You can't do that. Don't you think the teachers would notice something's off?"

I sighed and folded my hands in my lap. "I suppose you're right. But, Draco…I don't want to."

He leaned forward and took my hands in his. "Is that the best reason you've got?"—I dropped my gaze to my bedspread—"Hermione, look at me."—I hesitantly brought my eyes back to his—"We're going to do this together. I love you, Hermione, and you love me and as long as we've got that, we can get through anything."

And, I'm almost ashamed to say it but, I laughed. It sort of burst from me with salty tears that I quickly swiped at.

"What," he exclaimed. "I just tell you how much I believe in us and you _laugh_?"

I covered my mouth, trying to hide my smile. "I'm sorry, Draco. It's just…that…well, I was expecting some great speech and what I get is a proclamation of love. Not that it's a bad thing," I added in a rush. "It just caught me off guard is all."

He gave me a small smile. "Well, I can't help that." He paused for a moment. "Was it really that bad?" I nodded and a small amount of color came to his cheeks. "In my defense, it didn't sound so bad when I practiced it last night in front of the mirror."

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

It was his turn to look away. "Well…um…uh…since I nearly threw Potter out yesterday?"

"Oh, Draco," I said with a smile, leaning into his chest. "I love you."


	23. Chapter 23

January 4th

Classes started up again today and, as I'd suspected, it was an absolute nightmare. Nobody talked to me other than Draco. Nobody sat with me or stood beside me during classes except for Draco. Everyone but the professors and Draco avoided me as though I would bring the plague down upon them if they got too close. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The morning started off relatively fine. Draco woke me with a warm kiss on my forehead and gave me a rather brilliant pep talk. It was enough to give me the courage to finally pull the covers off my face and get ready to face the day.

Unfortunately, that strength vanished the moment Draco let go of my hand to go eat breakfast at the Slytherin table, leaving me standing in the middle of the big doorway alone. The Gryffindor table was right in front of me, only a few steps away, but I couldn't make my feet move toward it. They had put down roots and no matter how I tried they would not budge.

Harry looked up at me and, for a brief moment, I thought I had imagined everything that had happened two days ago. His green eyes were unguarded and he looked generally interest in why I had yet to join them at the table. I very nearly got my foot to take a step before he seemed to realize just who he was looking at and it was if a door had been slammed in my face. His glare was enough to knock the wind right out of me. It was clear that his reaction to me giving Draco a chance hadn't been a dream. He was still rather angry.

The good news is that his baleful look uprooted my feet. The worse news is that I was moving in the opposite direction from the table, headed back out the doors and into the hall. I knew it was cowardly. I knew that I would be kicking myself later for not having eaten any breakfast—it is the most important meal of the day—and I knew that Harry would never see things from my side if I allowed one glare to send me running.

I sank onto the bottom step of the stairs leading up to the next floor and let my head fall lightly against the wall. Closing my eyes, I tried to fight back the tears. I'd shed enough of those over Harry and Ron. I would not go into another round over two people who obviously could care less about me. It wasn't working; the tears came anyway.

"Hermione?"

I shook my head, not wanting Draco to see my tears. Who knew what he would do to avenge my hurt feelings.

I heard him sigh and sit down beside me. Scooting closer, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. At last I couldn't hold them back anymore. His mere presence brought on a sense of relief, a feeling of comfort that tore at what was left of my resolve. I just let my tears come, knowing all the while that his robes could get soaked through and he wouldn't ever care. They were safe with him—I was safe with him.

"Shh," he murmured, rubbing his hand over my back in large circles. "It's going to be okay."

He sounded so sure that I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that anytime now Harry and Ron would come through the doors and everything would be perfect. They would accept my decision to allow Draco into my life. They would welcome him into our group and it would be as if he had always been a part of our lives. But I knew that it would never happen.

"No," I choked out, fighting to get my tears back under control. "No, Draco. It won't be okay."

A part of me wanted to pull away, to look him in his crystalline eyes and tell him it would never, in a million years, be okay without Harry and Ron. I didn't care that Ron had hurt me in a way that had broken my heart. I didn't care that Harry was siding with him, begging me to forgive Ron so that we could go back to the way it was when we were the Golden Trio.

And yet another part of me, the part I wanted to listen to, kept my face buried in his chest. It was the part of me that didn't care if Harry and Ronald never spoke to me again. It didn't care that they had cut me out of their lives because I was going to be a better person for it. It was the half that told me that, if they didn't treat me right, they didn't deserve me.

"Yes, it will," he whispered forcibly into my hair, pulling me closer than I had thought possible. "Hermione, I know that I sure as hell don't deserve you but, after seeing the way they've treated you, they deserve you even less. I'm not going to let them do this to you, love. They don't deserve these tears. Do you understand?"

I nodded against him.

"Tell me they don't deserve this. You need to say the words."

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. As soon as the words left my mouth, they would be true. As soon as I said what I felt aloud, it would be final, over, done with. Nothing could take it back. "They don't deserve my tears. They don't deserve me."

I gave him a small smile and he matched it, brushing the hair back from my face and drying my tears with the sleeve of his robes.

"Oh," I moaned. "Draco, I've ruined your robes."

He held my hands in my lap, stopping me from doing a quick drying charm. "Never mind my robes, Hermione. Let's nip down to the kitchens for some food. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

I allowed him to lead me down the halls. He really hadn't cared that I'd ruined his robes. I thought for sure that he'd at least make some sarcastic remark, trying to bring a smile to my face but actually making me feel quite guilty about it. But he was more worried about me skipping out on one meal than the condition of his robes. I knew I loved him for a reason…


End file.
